Glitterbomb
by Post Reichenbach
Summary: A possible ending for the Great Game episode, Moriarity has something a little more interesting planned for Sherlock and John then a boring old bomb. Neither are very happy about it.


The first thought that forces itself into my head. Is simply, _what the fuck? _Gold and green flecks of glitter float in front of my face, dust over the pool, and descend to the floor in a scene that would be quite pretty, if I hadn't been prepared to die a bullet ago.

And if Moriarty wasn't standing there laughing, and if I wasn't the one who felt like a complete and total idiot.

"Surrrrprise!" He claps his hands and laughs uproariously. If it weren't for the red dots dancing over John's face, I'd pull the trigger again and blow him to kingdom come, like the 'bomb' was supposed to. As it is, all I can do is stand here and wonder how someone so brilliant can be so utterly, _utterly _unbalanced. This shortly becomes an uncomfortable question when I think about how much I've enjoyed myself over the past few days.

"Oh, come on Sherlock. Bombs are too dangerous for a first encounter." He's coming closer, and my skin is ready to jump off of my body. "I'll save that for the third date."

He takes another few steps, eyes never leaving mine. I can't stand this man, I'm going to have to kill him, and I want to do it sooner rather than later. Glancing at John reminds me why this isn't an option right now. I sigh audibly, tired of all of this.

"Then what exactly is the point of - "

"Maybe I just want to play a little bit more. I may have lied a little when I said Daddy had enough."

He licks his lips, and suddenly I don't like where this is going. John shifts awkwardly on the floor and I know he's looking for an escape route. There isn't one, I've checked a dozen times in the last second. Moriarity comes even closer, but he'll have a hard time going through the gun I'm white knuckling.

"Are you curious?" The voice he emits is sing song, and full of all the mirth of a kid on Christmas morning. I have no idea what he means. My business is understanding what other people mean, and I don't want to touch this with a 39 and a half foot pole. In spite of myself, my face begins to show my confusion and misgiving. So he decides to pick on John.

Gliding over and leaning toward the doctor, he puts his face an inch or so from him. John's eyes flick up to my forehead, and I know he's just as helpless as I am.

"What about you Johnny? Are you curious?"

"Not overly," snaps John, which may be foolhardy considering the circumstances. Moriarity stands up immediately, and whirls around again to face me. His eyes are wide, but deathly calm. Amusement dances at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, that's too bad, because I'm prett-ty su-re Sherlock is." His hand sweeps my collar, and I have to tighten every muscle in my body, not to rip it off of him immediately. Smiling he takes a few steps backwards to stand at the edge of the pool. "But I guess I don't really care who does what…" His eyes wander over towards John again, who just looks lost now.

"…as long as I'm entertained."

Oh no. Oh GOD no.

"What do you want?" John almost yells from the floor, and more than ever before I wish I could tell him to shut his face.

"Finally, someone gets to the bloody point! That must be why you keep him around Sherlock. Alright, I'll stop teasing." He makes another stupid face and I want to rip it off him. You can leave, as soon as I see a cock being sucked."

John stares; I get furious.

"Really? That's what all this was for?" I'm trying to hide the fact that I'm flustered, and sick to my stomach instantly and at once. "Do you honestly have nothing better to do?"

"Well, it's not like you do either. We were both bored, now we're not. I think you owe me."

"I may have appreciated the game on some level but this is too far."

"Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable? But that's what makes it FUN and EXCITING!" Screaming for emphasis, the object of my wrath, begins to shake his head. "Tell you what, I'll let you two decide who's going to do the work and who just gets to enjoy the ride." He drawls out the last word and I throw up a little in my mouth. "But hurry boys, I don't have all day."

My eyes meet John's and they're full of my own fear and shame reflected back at me.

"5"

I glance around erratically but there's still a couple of snipers somewhere hidden in the rafters willing to plug me full of holes. No way out.

"4"

I look at John again, and realize that even though I might be willing to die instead of hand over my dignity, it doesn't mean he is.

"3"

Ugh. I really don't think I can do this in any way, shape or form. I'm screaming inside of my head.

"2"

Which is worse? Which is _worse_? For me? For John? He's shifting on the floor again, and I still don't know what to do. What the fuck am I going to do?

"1"

Dying definitely seems like an option right now.

Moriarity laughs, and spins around on his heels. "Time's up, lads. Who's doing who?"

I can't even give him an answer, and I'm sure it's plastered all over my face.

"I-I'll do it, I guess." The words escape John's mouth dripping with resignation and shame.

"You don't - " I nearly stammer, too unhinged to maintain my calm.

"It's alright, not your fault." He looks up at me, and I can barely take it. Now I turn around, hands on my head.

"Oh come on, my dear, you should be excited!" Moriarty starts slowly walking around the edge of the pool toward one of the exits. He bounces on his heels, and even whistles a little. "Not everyday, you get a treat like this, and you have Daddy to thank. I'll even give you a little room."

"I'll kill you." I've said those words many times for a lot of different reasons, but I mean it as I look him dead in the eye. I can barely control myself, ready to beat him to a pulp with my bare fists.

"If I don't get you first. Now I suggest you two get started or we'll be here all night."

We may be here all night anyway, because though my experience is lacking, I know that this situation is in no way conducive to sexual activity. Or at least, not to anyone normal.

Suddenly, there are hands on my shoulders. I never even noticed John stand up, I was so focussed on the bastard across the way. Wordlessly, he begins to direct me towards the wall until my back hits the tile. I have no idea what to say, so I speak the only words that come to mind.

"I'm sorry."

His hands are still on my shoulders, and shaking slightly despite his grip.

"It's alright."

I have no idea how he can say that. That's what I'm thinking when he leans in and puts his lips on mine. Do people honestly _like_ this? It's awkward, it seems to take an eternity, this bodily closeness is really not pleasant, and I'm definitely not getting hard. Ugh, even the thought is disgusting.

John's tongue brushes my teeth, and because I'm not a complete idiot, I know what I'm supposed to do. I open my mouth to allow him access. I'm still feeling nothing, and as I sneak a look across the pool at Moriarty I can see he's not really amused either. I guess he expected me to put on more of a show. Suppressing the urge to snicker, I feel at least somewhat accomplished. He may want to see a cock get sucked, but it may be as entertaining as Coronation Street reruns.

This slight victory leaves me, when John's hand makes it way down to my groin. As soon as he connects, it's like a jolt go through my body. It doesn't really feel good, just strange.

Interesting.

His mouth is still on mine, but now his hand begins to rub me in a place seldom touched by even myself. I start to shake uncontrollably, and am forced to hold on to John. As he continues, I can feel my face flush, my stomach turn, and to my horror, this may be _starting_ to feel good. I'm beyond mortified as I realize I'm hard now.

A giggle drifts across the water. I can't even look. Instead as John breaks the kiss, my head turns automatically to the side. I'll die if I so much as catch our reflection in the water. He squeezes my shoulder, before getting to his knees.

"It's okay. This is going to be okay."

No, this really isn't okay. How can he say that? Nevermind, I'm too busy trying not to hear my fly being undone, trying not to feel the air hitting my bare skin. This is it, after everything is over I'm going home and putting a bullet in my brain just to avoid any additional embarrassment.

He takes me in his mouth, and it's like suddenly my brain is wiped completely clean. That's odd, it's never clean and it's sort of terrifying. I really start shaking when he runs his tongue along me. Instantly the room reels, and I feel like I'm going to explode with the heat and a never before felt tightness in the pit of my stomach. Why the hell do people do this?

My body answers my question as all my nerves fire simultaneously, but for once it's in a good way. I bite back an embarrassing noise, killing it in the back of my throat but as a result I have to gasp for air. Humiliating.

The room floods back to my awareness. I feel my clothes being replaced, hear my fly being zipped back up, and the fading of footsteps as they skitter over distant concrete. John stands back up and wipes his mouth absently as he turns around.

"He didn't even stay."

For a second, I don't know what he means. Then it dawns on me that Moriarty is long gone, and I'm still here looking like a knob. Now I'm not sure I want to kill myself without forcefully dismembering him first.

"Do you think we should call the police?" John faces me, and I can barely reciprocate.

"No, he'll be long gone." I don't like how squeaky and trembling my voice sounds. I don't like it at all.

"Right." He runs a hand through his hair. "Well, we should go home. Do you need help?"

It's then I realize that I'm still clinging to the wall. Shaking my head, I take a step forward, and nearly go sprawling. Luckily John catches me, and steadies me for a long minute as my legs try to remember how to walk.

"Okay?"

I nod, but he doesn't let go as we slowly walk to the exit. Deciding to get the necessary conversation over with as quickly as possible, I just give voice to the lingering tension in the air.

"Listen, I realize you probably want to move out and never see me again and I can't say I don't understand. No hard feelings." I wince a little at my unintended pun. "Completely reasonable."

John pauses. Is he going to hit me? Would I blame him? He smiles and I'm confused.

"Sherlock, stop worrying. I'll still be your spare mobile." He's actually laughing a bit as he starts walking again towards the door. "Let's just say you owe me a big favour."

In spite of myself, I'm smiling as well something that seemed impossible a few short minutes ago. I do not even pretend to fully understand this man, or how dull his life must have been if he insists on assisting me still, but for the moment I'm glad to be in his acquaintance. That's a new and interesting feeling. The pool far behind us now, we start the search for a cab, and surprisingly I'm still smiling as I say the following words.

"Agreed, doctor."

John seems to consider himself for moment, as if debating whether or not to speak aloud, but when he does it's not without some guarded mirth.

"Besides, it was only two minutes."

We both start laughing now, and I can barely believe the sound, but it's there and that's, for once, enough.

The End.


End file.
